


Copper

by Royce_Clayton



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Antagonistic Akechi, Established Relationship, Iwai can spot bullshit a mile away, Jealous Akechi, Kissing, Like High schooler underage, M/M, Phantom Thief Justice, Possessive Akira, Protective Iwai, Rutting, Spoilers, so spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 00:34:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14124288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Royce_Clayton/pseuds/Royce_Clayton
Summary: Akechi catches Akira working a part time job he shouldn't have and decides to poke the dragon a bit. He wasn't expecting the dragon to have a handsome keeper behind him.A handsome keeper who wasexactlyAkechi's type.(This is the prototype to https://archiveofourown.org/works/14207370)





	Copper

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write an Iwai/Akira story (still waiting on this whole Ren reveal to see which way the fandom wind blows) and started here. It quickly went elsewhere and is being worked on right now, but I couldn't just leave this little scene in Gdoc purgatory so...here. I hope you like them as much as I did~!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/14207370 "Matroyshka" is the fic that spawned from this!

“You know,” a prim and proper voice cooed almost gleefully, “it’s forbidden for high schoolers to take on jobs. And this is your...what?  _ Fifth _ ?”

Akira looked up from the display case counter he’d been washing, blinking almost owlishly in the mixture of low room light and bright showcase LEDs. The dark haired teen stood to his full height and cocked his head to the side as the Great Detective Prince Akechi looked around the cozy interior of Untouchable.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh,” Akechi turned on that innocent thousand-watt smile. “I was just in the neighborhood, and saw you walk down a rather innocuous alleyway. I thought perhaps you may need some help, and followed. Imagine my surprise when I just catch sight of your school coattails disappearing into such a seedy place…”

The young Leader of the Phantom Thieves must have made a face, because Akechi’s beaming cuteness shifted gears into something a touch more malicious. 

“You really should be careful who you associate with, Leader…” the detective smirked a little behind the mask of concern he conjured. “This place attracts some dangerous types.”

The hard part was biting back the laugh that bubbled up inside him. Akira figured Akechi wouldn’t see the humor in it. Batcavers, Otaku, NEETs...the phantom thief found it hard to even imagine anything brutal coming out of them.

Which only left one possible person the redhead could be talking about.

And  _ that  _ set Akira’s teeth on edge.

As if he were summoned, the teen felt the heat of a solid body come up behind him. He glanced back to see Iwai, the scruffy owner of the place, eyeing the detective intently. The older man cocked an eyebrow, arms coming up to fold over his chest.

“S’there a problem here?”

Akechi’s eyes slowly scanned Iwai, head to toe-or, well, what he could see behind the counter anyway. Akira saw the way his pupils expanded slightly, the hungry look that overshadowed the hollywood smile for a brief second. The way the detective licked his lips without realizing it. 

Akira could feel the darkness rise up inside himself in response, his hands fisting around his cleaning supplies. It was so... _ brazen _ . It caused the more bestial personas that rested within him to growl and pace impatiently.

And just as quickly as the raw want had appeared on Akechi’s face, it was gone. “Oh hello there. No, not at all, I’m Akira-kun’s friend. I only wanted to alert him to the rules of schools around here, since he’s from out of town.” The detective’s sharp eyes caught the raven’s. “I’d hate to see him get into anymore trouble after all.”

The younger man bowed his head a bit and turned, leaving just as unceremoniously as he’d arrived.

“You need to watch your back around that one,” the whiskey voice of the gun merchant warned as soon as the door shut and the bell over it had stopped jingling. Iwai sank into his usual chair with a growl. “He reeks of law.”

“He’s a famous detective prince, so I would hope so.”

“No,” Iwai leveled his gaze on his intern, face full of meaning and experience. “Not that kinda law.”

Akira grumbled, still not quite ready to let the way Akechi had looked at  _ him _ pass,  and crossed his arms over his chest, leaning a hip against the counter he’d been cleaning and raising an eyebrow, waiting for Iwai to clarify.

The older man shook his head and looked away. “The kind  _ I _ used to deal with. S’fuckin’ corruption...copper-he smells like copper and his eyes say he likes it.”

The raven haired teen sighed more heavily now, the heat leaving him. “Yeah...yeah we figured as much.”

“He’s not a part of your clan is he? Kid’s as fake as a stripper’s tits.”

Akira shook his head, ebony curls shifting. “No. He’s trying, he’s got us on some stuff we can’t walk away from, but he’s not family.”

Iwai nodded a bit, his eyes far off, his mind distant now as he no doubt drifted back to days well before Akira had known him. “‘S a bad scene, brat. Don’t play around. If you get in too deep--”

“I know,” Akira’s voice was gentle as he set the rag and bottle of cleaner on the counter and took a step forward, until his legs bumped against the seated man’s knees. “There’s only room at my back for one when the chips are down.” Light brown eyes flicked upwards to look the teen in the face. “I already know who I’ll find there.”

The shopkeep scoffed, shook his head, then pushed the bill of his cap down to hide his eyes. The stick of his ever present candy swirled as he grumbled quietly, either composing himself or containing himself, Akira wasn’t sure which. “Since when did I start getting lectured by a brat?”

“Since you let this brat into your bed.”

“Ha!” Iwai’s head tipped back, his eyes shining as he caught and kept Akira’s gaze. “...I’d do it again every damn time.” Iwai chuckled to himself before standing, pressing into the teen’s space, forcing him to step back until he had Akira pinned to the counter, hands on either side hemming him in.

“Mune…” Akira murmured, feeling his blood start to tingle in anticipation. He lifted a hand and ran it over the five o’clock shadow his lover wore so well, caressing upwards to comb through the softer buzzcut at the back of Iwai’s head, hearing the other man croon softly as his nimble fingers sent tendrils of static sensation along his nerve endings.

Iwai turned his head away long enough to spit his sucker into the trash by their feet before coming back and claiming Akira’s mouth for his own, the sweet taste of the candy mingling with their own flavors. Akira’s eyes slid closed for a moment, his body giving a light shiver at the strong presence that was his Mune. It was a powerful cocktail of dominance and wild cut with safety and care that always went straight to the teen’s head, then shot down south just as quickly. Iwai’s calloused, solid hand slid up to rest against the back of Akira’s neck, preventing any escape as he nipped at his bottom lip to gain access.  The teen shifted a bit, discomfort from the sudden tightness of his uniform pants riling him, but settled when his lover slotted a knee between his legs, giving Akira a source of delicious friction he could rut against. 

Only when they had to breathe did Iwai back off, and only leaving enough space for much needed air. His brown eyes had darkened, lust staining them to a rich syrupy hue, that only Akira ever got to see these days. He knew there had been others before him...but he’d be damned if there would be any more now. Mune was his,  _ his. _

The next kiss was more aggressive, hungry, territorial, Akira clearly feeling the need to stake his claim to chase away the errant thoughts in is head. Iwai’s hand shifted up to comb through the thick dark curls of Akira’s hair as he took the teen’s fervent desire. Akira quickly moved on, mouthing his way along Mune’s jaw before sliding down to kiss and lick at the thick muscles of his neck, biting at the gecko as though to lay his own claim on Iwai alongside Kaoru’s. 

The gunsmith lets out a raspy, stuttering breath, tilting his head back to let his lover do as he needed. “So I  _ didn’t _ imagine the way the kid was looking at me.”

Akira stilled, frozen to the spot, and the apology was almost on Iwai’s lips, when he glanced down and was met with the most feral eyes he’d ever seen. And he’d seen some desperate people do some desperate things.

“Ah fuck,” Iwai closed his eyes, knowing without a doubt just what kind of night he was in for.

His brat didn’t seem to notice the scowl that appeared on his pretty face when anyone tried to get pissy with Iwai over prices or policies. Or the way he tended to gravitate to Iwai’s side,  whenever Iwai was having a shitty day or in a mood and being a dick, and find a way or reason to make physical contact. A touch, a brush of input, as though checking in while reminding the man of his presence and support. 

It was all subconscious, but the ex yakuza knew the signs better than anybody, because he had had the same tells once upon a time. Ohhh yes. This was Young Mune’s vicious passion, staring him right back in the face. No wonder his first girlfriend had practically run screaming.

“Akira…”

“He wants you.” Akira stepped back, lip curling in distaste. “He wants me dead and he wants  _ you. _ ”

The humor drained out of Iwai like a burst dam, all seriousness bringing out the scowl he reserved for everyone else in life. “The fuck’d you just say?”

Akira tossed his head a bit, but didn’t look away. “He’s an assassin, you said so yourself.”

“There’s a big difference between a hired gun and a psychopath,” Iwai tsked. “And I personally ain’t letting you out that fucking door until you give me a god damned good reason not to go and blow that fucker’s head off right now.”

“Kaoru.”

Iwai snarled, knowing it was coming and unable to deal with it anyway. “I ain’t losin’ you god damn it!”

Akira shook his head. “We’re handling it.”

“That ain’t a model he’s packing.”

“We’re handling it  _ our _ way.”

The gunsmith and Joker stood eye to eye, both refusing to back down or look away.

Iwai clenched his jaw and ground his teeth, biting back all the things he  _ could _ say that would only sound shitty, adulty, and hypocritical. Everything he’d heard Akira and his friends-especially the blonde mouthy one-rail against.

Everything  _ he and his friends _ used to rail against.

The brat was complicated, practically different people at times even, but Mune had never let it bother him because, really, who wasn’t? More importantly the kid had been willing to face an armed yakuza beside him. Had protected Kaoru, and helped bridge the gap between father and son. 

He’d have to be a real piece of shit not to trust him now.

(He didn’t think that was the decision a proper adult would make, which only made it that much better of an option for a moody, antisocial, ex yakuza lowlife like him.)

He took a deep breath, settling himself, and dropped his arms. “Don’t die.”

Akira didn’t have it in him to explain that he kinda had to. Mune’d never let him leave.

“I’ll come back.”

Iwai gave a firm nod, then sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Well then, now that the mood is officially dead…”

He turned to go and lock the door, to start the whole process of locking the shop up, but only got a step in when he felt the tug at his jacket. He stopped, but didn’t look back.

“ ‘m not mad.”

A pair of thin arms wrapped around him, a warm body pressing against his back in a gentle hug. “You’re a shitty liar, Mune.”

The gunsmith looked up at the ceiling, regretting giving up smoking for the Nth time since he’d met the brat at his back, and sighed once again. “ ‘m not mad at  _ you _ .”

“I know.”

The two stood there for a moment longer, before Iwai turned in the teen’s arms and looked into bright grey eyes. Akira smiled, and Iwai was reminded just how much of a difference that made. The kid was always pretty, but there were times when he looked practically savage, or inexplicably fragile. 

Mune leaned down and captured the teen’s mouth, gently holding his cheek and brushing his jaw with a thumb. Akira responded beautifully, pressing close and leaning into the kiss. The fiery urgency and possession was gone now, replaced by a gentle depth and passion. The two parted after a moment, and looked into each other’s eyes.

“Come home with me.”

Akira’s eyes widened a bit, his eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “Tonight?”

“Now.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> And then they fucked, the end.


End file.
